


Covet

by waywardjoy (CNK80Q3demoneyes)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Dark fic, F/M, Female on male sexual assault, Gore, Innuendo, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsession, Violence, deeply distrubed individual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNK80Q3demoneyes/pseuds/waywardjoy
Summary: The waitress that Dean frequently flirts with may not be as harmless as she seems.





	1. Chapter 1

“What can I get ya, sugar?” Coffee black, blue plate special, extra bacon, same as always. 

“I’ll have the,” drawing out the word like he’s really thinking about trying something new, “ blue plate special, extra side of bacon, and coffee please, doll face. “

He strides up to the same stool at least 4 times a week. Always alone. Always the same order. 

He knows my name, but insists on using pet names. Sweetheart. Darling. Doll face. Each one makes me blush. 

The cup clinks as I flip it to fill it. He always makes my hands shake a little. His desire for caffeination is palpable. “You are my hero.”

“Happy to be of service. Wouldn’t want you out there unleashing your grumpiness on unsuspecting citizens.” My voice steadier than I feel. 

A grin spreads behind his cup as he hums his agreement. Eyebrow arched, he knows I get him.

It’s the same thing every time. I could set my watch by this little slice of my own private heaven. Just me and him. Our banter. Our morning. 

Betty says he’s a charmer, but what does she know. She’s 87 and still waitressing. I know he means what he says. Those eyes would never lie. Not to me. 

Sliding his plate across the counter while simultaneously refilling his cup those eyes always sparkle. Crinkle in the corners as he rubs his hands together. Excitement over his morning feast chasing away the sleepy crankiness. “This is why I love you!” His smile nearly blinds me. 

Some mornings I try to keep him just a bit longer. He’s always got room for more. “Got a fresh cherry pie with your name on it. Can I fetch ya a slice?”

He leans back on his stool. Blows a deep breath from pursed lips. Pats his stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I got room.” That smirk. He knows as well as I do the words are all unnecessary. It’s our little play. 

But not today. Today is all wrong. He’s not alone. Today he brought her. He lead her to a booth. All cosy and private. Barely glanced in my direction when he asked for two coffees. 

French toast and sausage. That is not his order. He needs his bacon. This is not how this is supposed to go. My hands shake worse than ever. Coffee sloshes onto the table. “I am so s-sorry.” 

“No harm done.” He’s just staring at her. My retreat is hasty. 

The counter supports my shaking knees. Deep breaths. 

She’s getting my looks. My flirtatious smiles. Her giggles are a direct blow to my splintering heart. 

Their hands clasped on the table. It’s just too much. I had hoped to do this another way. Give him more time to make his move. I know he wants to. But they seem so familiar. I’ve been too subtle I suppose. I can’t waste anymore time. She doesn’t deserve him. 

“Which kind of pie will it be today, hun?”

He seems startled by my question. “Oh uh…” He still hasn’t looked at me. It’s like he’s under some kind of spell or something. “No pie today. Thanks.”

That. Is. It. I show them my back, hiding the uncontrollable tremors. Deep breaths. Steady, now. 

“Awe come on Dean. What’s breakfast without a little indulgence?” So much innuendo in that whiny question, bile rises. “Can I get a slice of cherry, please? Warmed up and a la mode?” The extra hard “d” at the end makes me cringe. 

“Coming right up.” I throw over my shoulder. 

That awful voice grates on my ears, “ I’ll share my warm, creamy cherry pie with you.”

Vulgar and disgusting. She is unworthy. Reigning in my rage and nausea is getting more difficult. 

Well, we will just see how he feels once he’s had his pie. 

The powder is perfectly hidden under the melty goodness of the al a mode when I drop off both servings. They’ll never know what hit ‘em. 

“Enjoy your dessert. Made it fresh just for you, Dean.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Reader get taken

Dazed unfocused eyes blink up at me. I feel my own expression soften. A tiny upward curve at the corners of my mouth. You’re so beautiful like this. Sleepy and ruffled. I could watch you wake up forever. My hand finds your soft spikes on their own accord. “Hey,” I try to whisper, “are you finally waking up?” My hand gently strokes as you seem to become more aware. 

“Mmmm.” Your muffled groan starts content. Before you realize. You won’t be speaking any time soon. The dishrag jammed in your mouth will do for now. I know you are fully aware when the chains begin to rattle. 

“Ah ah. None of that now. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” My fingers tighten in your hair pulling your face to meet mine. “Be good and I will let you watch.”

You stare defiantly but do as you’re told. You are my good boy. 

I carried you into the basement, your feet dragging against every step it took to get to the ground floor. I sat you in a sitting position and chained you to the wall. I stare at you for a moment and smile. The dim light makes your skin sparkle and glow. I'm glad I have you forever now. I wouldn't call it obsessed, I'd call it destiny.

I stand. Quickly returning my attention to our interloper. 

Dangling by the wrists, chained to the ceiling, awaits the object of my abhorrence. A figure so boring and nondescript, she’s not even worth making a note of. 

“I hate you.” The words fall without thought. But they are true enough. I let them hang. Settle heavily into the room. “From the moment you walked in. But the longer you are breathing-“

An angered sort of growl behind me sets me off. The laugh that bursts forth reverberates. “So eager to get the show going! Be patient. I promise it will so be worth it. Wake up!” My palm stings across her cheek. I watch fascinated by the crimson trickle oozing down her chin. “Red is the perfect colour on your skin. It’s going to be so fun to paint you in it.”

That brings more muffled growling and chain rattling. “I told you to be patient, Dean.” I have yet to get so much as a peep out of the whore. Maybe she needs more pain to wake fully. 

I found a silver dagger strapped to his ankle when I removed his boots. So many weapons on my boy. But the dagger will do nicely. 

I survey my canvas. Oh where to start. An exposed hip bone. That’ll do nicely. The blade is sharper than I’d hoped. It meets no resistance. Less painful. The sound I receive in thanks is more of a pained moaned than the scream I expected. But the intended wakefulness occurs. 

I wait for her to spit and sputter. Give her a moment to realize what’s happening. Dean’s blade is too merciful. I exchange it for my own from a nearby table. Thick, heavy, jagged teeth. Much more violent. 

“Simmer down now, Love. You’ll hurt yourself.”  
It’s time to take care of him. He’ll enjoy the performance better this way. I pull the syringe and vial from my pocket. 

“What- the hell- is that?” She’s panting like a bitch in heat. She’s so disgusting. 

“Oh this? Don’t you worry your pretty little head. This is just a little something I whipped up special for Dean.” I focus on drawing up the proper dose. “I have no intention of hurting him. Much. It’s you I’m after.”

“You’re going to drug him!”

“My chemistry professor never appreciated my aptitude for alchemy. Did you know that quetiapine is a antipsychotic but has a nasty side effect of aphasia? That’s fancy doctor speak for can’t fucking speak. Found out myself the hard way.” My hand rubs the memory from my throat. “Makes a great base for this little cocktail. Causes temporary paralysis including the vocal cords. Best part, totally undetectable. You’ll wake in the hospital unable to move or speak and the doctors will be baffled.“ I can’t help the giddy noise that falls from my lips. My plan is finally coming together. 

“None of This is his fault, after all. It’s yours. You trapped him with your hussy ways. He’s just a man. They are stupid at best. Easily swayed. But he loves me. I know he does. He tells me all the time. You just have him all confused. You brought this all on yourself.” 

The bitch actually laughs. “My god you’re delusional. And pathetic. Why would he ever want a nut job like you when he already has me warming his bed.”

The rusty blade takes a little extra effort to drag along her bare arms. But the accompanying scream is so very satisfying. 

“You- are- fucking insane!” Gross. Again with the panting. 

“Say that one more time and I’ll make sure you can never walk again.” I like the idea of giving her false hope. She was dead the moment she set foot in my diner. 

Dean’s thrashing pulls me back from my distraction. “Alright Love, this may pinch a little.” Fingers clenched in his hair again, the needle slips easily into his neck. A small trickle of blood follows the needle back out. Compulsion drives me to clean it with my tongue. He’s delicious. 

“You’re sicker than I thought.”

“Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.” I caress her cheek before delivering a spine cracking blow. “I thought I told you to shut up. Gah! I can’t think with all your blathering.” It’s almost done. Then we can have our happily ever after. The way we are meant to be. 

I look to my beloved to see how he’s faring. He’s gone still. Temple resting against up stretched arm. Eyes wide. Good, still watching then. 

I try to steady my breaths as I take up my rusted blade again. Cutting is cathartic. Long drags of the blade over bare flesh, short stabs into denim clad legs. I was right. Covering her in crimson is a huge improvement. 

“Please -stop. You don’t- have to -do this.” 

“Please stop, you don’t have to do this.” I can’t get my voice quite as high and nasal. The snot filled whine is completely beyond me. “Why? Why do people always say that shit?!” My hand tightens around the blade, a feeble attempt at halting the tremors. “Of course I have to! It’s the only way to get your poison out of his system. It’s the only way to save him!”

“But you said you don’t want to hurt him!”

“I could never.”

“But hurting me hurts him!”

“No.”

“Yes! He loves me!”

“No!”

“You can see it as easily as I do!”

“Shut your lying mouth, you stupid bitch!”

I blink and my blade is in her flesh again. Buried to the hilt. Ripping. Tearing with its dull serrations. Warm wetness gushes over my hand. Her screams do nothing to quell my hate. 

Her stuttering breaths, blood dripping from her mouth as the light leaves her eyes- does wonders. 

Clouded green eyes meet mine briefly over my shoulder. “No one could ever love you the way I do.” He won’t remember this. Of that I am sure. The serum in his veins promises me. I watch, gleeful as he finally succumbs. Head slumping, chains pulled taught. 

It’s time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds himself in a waking nightmare he can’t escape.

Awareness comes in fits of start and stop. There’s sound, but I can’t process what it is. A voice? An engine? Then there’s touch. Several hands at once. Cool breeze. Gentle rocking. Finally the most recognizable. Sammy’s voice. I can’t understand it, but I know its him. Everything will be fine if Sammy’s here. I allow myself to settle deeper into the darkness I am trapped in.

Confusion is the strongest emotion when I finally awake. If you can call it that. I try to lift a finger, but my brain can’t make the call. I don't feel anything. My limbs are useless. Motionless. They won’t budge. My eyelids won’t cooperate either. I focus all my energy on trying to speak. To grunt. Hell, to even cry. Nothing. My confusion shifts to frustration. And a bit of fear. There is only silence. I have no way to alert anyone. Help!! Sammy! Where are you?

I try to remember what the hell happened. I remember finishing up a hunt with Y/N. I know we must’ve come home to the bunker. I just can’t remember anything beyond that. If what’s wrong is some kind of spell or curse, I am sure she and Sam will fix it. I just have to try to be patient. But the overwhelming fear that it has nothing to do with anything supernatural, keeps taunting me. Was I in an accident? Did I suffer a stroke or aneurysm? I hope one of them shows up soon. I need answers.

I must have dozed off. The next time I wake, it’s to voices. Finally Sammy is back. The second is a female. Somewhat familiar. Not Y/N, but I can’t put my finger on exactly who she is. 

“Any change?” He sounds far away. In the doorway maybe.

“Sorry, Mr. Winchester. Your brother hasn’t so much as twitched. You know what the doctors said.” The woman’s voice startles me. I expected her to be further away. She’s right next to me. Maybe she’s been watching over me this whole time. 

I hear my brother sigh. He sounds more sad than frustrated. That doesn’t bode well for my supernatural theory. 

“I was about to give him a sponge bath. Is there anything else?” She sounds almost annoyed. That doesn’t make any sense to me.

“Oh. Alright then. I will leave you to it. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Sam sounds uncomfortable. I can just picture him brushing his hair over his ears. Nervous and awkward. The feeling is mutual, brother. 

I hear the door latch shut and listen as the woman moves about the room. Gathering supplies I imagine. Then it hits me. “My office.” Where the hell are we? Not the hospital then. Sam doesn’t have an office at the bunker. Damn I need answers!

I’m forced out of my musings when I feel the blankets folded down and off of my legs. But am startled when a hand smoothes up my leg in a very non-medical way. My nurse or whoever is not very professional. Now I wish Sam hadn’t left me here. I am completely vulnerable. This woman can do anything to me.

The hand starts a slow caress. Up and down my leg. I can feel the panic start to build. I am not one to deny a woman’s touch. But this is beyond anything I want. And I do not consent. 

“I know you’re awake in there, Dean. I can feel your heart racing.” She whispers in my ear. Her hand still dangerously close to places it shouldn’t be. 

Cool air is suddenly blowing across my naked body. Confirming another fear. 

“You are so beautiful like this.” I feel her hands rubbing across my chest, followed by the cool breeze again. I’m sure she’s blowing on me. But I’m grateful her hand didn’t finish it exploration further south. Her boldness is frightening. 

Sam! I am screaming. Not a sound comes from me apart from my increased breathing. 

“You like that don’t you, hun?” She repeats her cycle of rubbing and blowing. I pray Sam comes back before she takes this all too far. 

Lips. Warm and wet, are being pressed to mine. A tongue licks across my mouth. I want to cry and rage against it all.

“Taste sweeter than any pie.” I feel her back away. Humming to herself. I am terrified of what is to come.

It clicks then. That voice. I know that voice! Her face swims into my mind. Sweet smile. Pot of coffee in one hand and pie in the other. Things are so much worse than I had feared. I triple my efforts to open my eyes. I have to see her. Maybe I can convince her to stop. Maybe I can get my body to move. To scream.

My eyes are assaulted with the brightest light imaginable. But damn it, I finally got them open. I catch movement off to the left. She’s there. Dressed in scrubs and brandishing a needle. 

“Hi there, sugar. I wondered if I’d be seeing those gorgeous eyes today. I suppose I could wait a few more minutes before your next dose.” I watch her place the syringe down on the bedside table. She runs her hand through my hair, a parody of motherly affection, as she sits down on the side of the mattress. 

More memories flash. I remember now. I’m not hurt or cursed. I am being drugged. I need to keep that needle out of my body. I have to keep her distracted long enough to regain my voice.

She grants me my salvation in the form of a Bond-esque villain monologue.

“You know it took me a whole month to convince them that it would be best for you to go home. Released under my care, of course. Then another 2 weeks for your brother to get your house ready. I’m still unsure what all he had to do. Can’t imagine y’all lived like pigs. “

That explains the unfamiliar location. Wonder what Sam had to do to get this place. 

“But I am a patient woman. Just being with you is worth the wait. And don’t worry. There won’t be too much permanent damage. I’m just going to keep dosing you until your muscles waste just enough to keep you docile. Then I’ll stop. I can’t wait to play with you as an active participant.”

She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I won’t tell Sam as soon as I am able. 

“You’re brother will be so happy when you finally wake from your coma. Shouldn’t be too hard to convince him to let me stay and help you recover. You and I are in love after all.”

Sonofabitch! It keeps getting worse. 

“You do still love me, don’t ya, Dean? Now that you got ‘ol what's-her-name out of your system. I tell ya, the bitch had it coming.”

No. She can’t. She can’t be gone. 

“She was so disgusting. Took days to get all that tainted blood out of my cuticles.”

Liar! 

“She squealed like a stuck pig. Begging and pleading to spare her. Pathetic.”

My vision blurs. Breath stuttering. She’s not lying. Images flood my mind. Chains. Screams. Blood. I remember everything. 

She must hear something because suddenly the blanket is pulled back up to my neck. Covering me completely. She wipes the tears from my face with her sleeve as the door opens. 

“Hey, I was going to-“ Sam’s voice fails as we lock eyes. “Shit! You’re awake!” Two giant steps and he’s got his hands on my face. “Dean! You- I can’t believe your awake!” The big lug pulls my limp body up into his. Hugging me close. 

I am screaming at him in my head. I can feel more hot tears stream down my face. The burn in my veins is back suddenly. I shift my eyes to my left trying to see her. Her smug smile is all the proof I need. My eyelids slam closed. 

Sammy lays me back down. Cradling my face again. “Dean. Buddy. Open your eyes again.” His voice cracks. “Dean. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. He’s not awake. That was just an involuntary impulse.”

“No! He was looking right at me! He was awake.”

“I know it looked that way. It’s very common with this sort of coma.”

“But he was looking right at me! That wasn’t any reflex.”

“I know this is hard. But we have to be patient. I like to believe that this was a sign to not give up. That he’s still here with us.”

Her syrupy voice makes my stomach turn. 

“Yeah.” Sam sighs again. “Yeah you’re probably right. Just means I need to do more research.” The last bit was muttered as he left the room. He didn’t sound too convinced of what Nurse Ratched had to say. Good. I still have a chance. 

“That brother of yours. Such a worrier. Well I was worried too when he showed up. Funny you never told me you had a brother. Almost ruined my plans. Turns out he didn’t want you in that hospital any more than I did. Something about a second opinion. He’s been holed up in his office all this time calling who knows who. Even had a priest in here. I swear it sounded like they were performing some exorcism or something.”

I can hear her rummaging around the room. But my blanket thankfully remains in place. I try to fight it, but the darkness pulls me under once again. 

“...so don’t worry. I know you’re not sick. I just have to figure out the right spell.”

Sam! Damn. What was he saying? Stupid drugs! 

“I am so sorry about Y/N. I convinced them to release her body to me. She got the hunter’s funeral she deserved.”

His voice low and rough. I know losing her would hurt him as well. They were always close. But I’ll have to mourn later. I need to focus. To open my eyes. Tell Sam. 

“I won’t give up, Dean. I promise. I will figure-“

“Time to change his catheter bag.”

Her sing-song voice startles me. From the abrupt cut off, I assume Sam wasn’t expecting her either. 

No. Sam! Don’t let her put her hands on me anymore! Please! Don’t leave me alone with her again. 

“Sure. I- I have some calls to make anyway.”

The door clicks and I know I’m alone again. Panic grips me hard. My heart is racing. 

“I wouldn’t go getting any foolish ideas if I were you.” Her breath is hot in my ear. Threatening. “Don’t think for a second I can’t eliminate him just as easily as the whore.”

I nearly choke on my tongue. I can’t let her harm him. She can have me. As long as Sam is safe. 

“Now be good for me, baby. We wouldn’t want to see those tears again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading y’all!!


End file.
